


seventeen

by dracoommalfoy



Series: song fics [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Based on a song, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:15:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24865159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoommalfoy/pseuds/dracoommalfoy
Summary: downtown harks backhalfway through this lifei used to feel freewas it just a dream?now you're half shythink you're so carefreebut you're just seventeenso much like meyou're just seventeenyou're just seventeenseventeen
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: song fics [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1852027
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	seventeen

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to ari :)

Hogwarts is nothing like Harry remembers. All he can think about as he catches his breath in Aberforth Dumbledore's dimly lit house is what Hogwarts looked and felt like the first time Harry's young, bright green eyes landed on it.

It was lit. Every window on every tower on every side of the looming castle was lit with the shining and flickering flames of the enchanted candles. Harry had loved those candles- they could make even the scariest shadow seem friendly. It was happy. Even Crabbe and Goyle- who never showed emotion (Harry wasn't even sure they felt any)- hadn't brought down the mood in the Great Hall that first night Harry's year arrived at the castle. 

"Alright?" Ron asked, watching Harry closely. Harry hadn't realized that his hand had come up and was rubbing his scar. He quickly dropped his hand and gave Ron a sad sort of smile, whispering, "Alright."

Part of him found it funny how much could change in such a short time. Part of him found it funny that that there seemed to be no light emitting from the school; no laughter spilling through the crack under the Great hall Doors.

And the other part of him found it horrible.

Glancing at the mirror, Harry caught sight of his reflection for the first time in months. Unless you counted his eyes in the lake in the woods, or his glasses catching the light of Gryffindor's sword blade. Harry didn't count those. He couldn't help but force the stinging in his eyes to go away as he thought about his eleven year old self looking up at the towers of Hogwarts with anxiousness, excitement, and hope. Now, when Harry looked around, heavy purple shadows hung under his eyes. His messy and dirty hair sat, a tangled mop, upon his head, his once bright eyes now dull with stress and fear.

And the lines on his face. One might have thought that this seventeen year old boy was actually forty instead. Worry lines creased his forehead and grime covered his face. Of course, whether it be luck, or irony, or neither, his scar still lay stark-white against everything else.

One glance in the mirror told Harry that although he was seventeen, he had already lived half the life as a normal teenage _boy_.

When Neville showed up through Ariana Dumbledore's portrait frame, wearing an excited grin, the thought hit Harry like a truck. Neville was just a _boy_. Harry's eyes drifted to Ron's tired, but hopeful blue eyes, then Hermione's smile, followed by a wince as she absentmindedly rubbed the place where _Mudblood_ was carved into her skin. And when her questioning eyes caught his gaze, he gave her a nod and put on his brave face.

When he followed the others through the tunnel that would lead into Hogwarts, he traced his hand along the side to keep him upright. Harry choked back his words as he thought about how they were _children_ fighting a warrior's battle.

A lifetime ago, it seemed, all of them, even the Slytherins, had entered Hogwarts without a trace of knowing what the future held in store for them in their minds. They were carefree, they were innocent, they were free.

Harry couldn't help but wonder if it had all been a dream.

When Ginny throws herself into Harry's arms while the others in the Room of Requirement watch him with hungry and waiting eyes, Harry knows it feels wrong. It's a foolish and selfish and idiotic thought but Ginny should not be hugging him. Lavender should. Dean should. Seamus, Terry Boot, Hannah Abbot, Ernie Macmillan, the Patil twins, anyone from his year should. But not Ginny- she wasn't in that group.

And it was so idiot Harry almost physically slapped himself.

But Ginny shouldn't hugging him. Anyone that had gone through what Harry went through at the same age and the same time should be wrapping him in relieved arms. _Anyone_. Including the Slytherins. Including Draco Malfoy.

So maybe that's why Harry decides to save Draco Malfoy's life. Or maybe it's because Malfoy saves his life back at the Manor. Or maybe it's because Harry realizes the terrified boy hanging above the Fiendfyre isn't so different from him. Both just boys raised under bad roofs. Boys with influences. Seventeen year old boys that are just that- seventeen.

When Draco Malfoy's arms wrap themselves tightly around Harry Potter's waist, Harry knows that this is right. This isn't like Ginny's grip. Malfoy will always understand Harry in a way that Ginny never could. White-blond hair tickles the side of Harry's neck as Malfoy buries his face into the younger boy's shoulder, and Harry feels Malfoy's tears through his shirt. Malfoy had just lost Crabbe, one of his life-long closest friends.

Grief. Malfoy is feeling it, and Harry has felt it countless times before. They go tumbling off of the broom as the great doors to the Room of Requirement slam shut behind them. Harry groans and sits up quickly, Malfoy doing the same. The Slytherin freezes and catches Harry's eye. There's tears glazing over the silver-blue Harry always found so different and so intruiging.

Draco Malfoy is seventeen, just like Harry.

"I'm sorry," Harry chokes out, tears of his own threatening.

And what Draco does next makes up for the confused look in his eye. He holds out his hand.

_"It's true, then?" Harry looks over at the blond boy from Madam Malkin's. "What they're saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts." The crowd whispers, but Harry keeps his hard gaze locked on the boy, who nods to the bigger kids next time. "This is Crabbe, and Goyle. And I'm Malfoy," he grins and walks over, standing on the step above Harry, "Draco Malfoy."_

_Ron let out a choked laugh. Draco Malfoy rounded on him. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair, and a hand-me-down robe. You must be a Weasley." Ron frowns, his eyes full of distaste. Malfoy looks back at Harry. "You'll soon find out that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."_

_The blond holds out his hand, and Harry looks at it for a second before back up at Malfoy's fascinating blue-grey eyes. "I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks."_

_Malfoy drops his hand._

Harry blinks, reality forming back around him. An older version of Draco Malfoy stands above him, biting his lip nervously. Without a second thought, Harry grabs it and Malfoy pulls him up. Before he pulls his hand away, Harry shakes it.

A spell collides with the wall around them, sending smoke around.

When it clears, Draco Malfoy has gone.


End file.
